by Logan Fox
Why the hell was everything always so muddled with sex?
“We?” she managed.
“Me. Finn.” Lars caught her bottom lip in his teeth. “Whoever else you decide to fuck.”
“What? There’s no one—”
But then he kissed her, and she moaned against his mouth when she heard him zipping open his fly. She squirmed again. She wasn’t ready, not for this. Not right now.
She could taste herself on his lips, his tongue. Something else she didn’t know if she liked or not. But then his sweet saliva washed away that taste. And his cock touched her slit. And he paused.
“Princess,” he murmured. “How about I call you Princess?”
“Fuck you,” she whispered, her eyes fluttering.
“I plan to,” he said, nibbling at her earlobe as he sank down on top of her. His belt buckle scraped her inner thigh, his jeans feeling rough against her skin. He grabbed her hand, guiding it down until she could feel the hard length of his cock. “But only after you make a decision.”
She wrapped her fingers around him, eyes fixing on his as he forced her hand up and down his length in slow, steady strokes. Her mouth opened, and she bucked under him, trying to move down on the bed so he could penetrate her.
But he held back, driving her insane as the tip of his cock moved over her slit without going inside. As she felt him throb in her hand, but couldn’t pull him close enough to fuck her.
“Is it going to be Princess, or Capo?” His green eyes bore into her. “What are we going to call you out there?”
Her lips quivered. He pressed the tip of his cock against her and drew it hard over the length of her wet slit. “Come on, bunny. What’s it going to be?”
She moaned at him, lifting her hips. His smile grew the longer she squirmed under him, the more he teased her. Electric fire coated her skin. Her core throbbed painfully, begging for that first thrust.
“La Sombra,” she murmured, lifting her head and catching his lips with hers.
He made a delighted sound, and slid the first inch of his cock inside her. “La Sombra?”
“La Sombra,” she repeated through their kiss. He ground his mouth against hers, and drew back one last time. “What’s it mean?”
“The Shadow,” she whispered.
“Bit dark…” He pulled out of her, rubbed her hard with the tip of his dick, and grinned down at her. “You sure?”
“Yes.” She was about to yell at him to fuck her so he would end her suffering, but then she remembered what he’d said.
She didn’t call the shots in here. He did.
They did.
“Then that’s what I’ll call you,” he said, and thrust so hard into her that she let out a breathless gasp in protest. “My capo.”
39
Nothing
Finn was late for dinner. He spotted Cora immediately as he entered the villa’s dining hall. She sat beside Lars near the head of the table. Cora had watched his progress across the room, too. Her cheeks were rosy, as if she’d been drinking.
Not surprising—the Riveras and the Martins loved their fucking alcohol. He’d tried to sip from his glass as slowly as possible after tossing back almost the entirety of his first drink, but Gabriella had become more talkative the more she drank, and she was matching him drink for drink. The woman had a surprisingly high tolerance level. And he was pretty sure she’d done a bump of coke when she’d gone to the ladies because she’d come back as pumped up as if she’d just won an Olympic medal.
“Where were you?” Cora whispered, as soon as his ass touched the chair.
He did a quick glance around the table. Four of Javier’s men were seated opposite them, Silvia chatting with one of them, Ana nearby. Javier and his son Neo were not in sight.
“Making friends,” he murmured. He doubted the sicarios opposite them could hear what he said, but he turned and put his mouth by Cora’s ear anyway. She turned to him, eyes glittering gold and amber, and slid a hand onto his thigh.
He pulled back, frowning at her. He was going to ask her if she’d been drinking, but then Javier walked into the dining hall wearing one of his characteristically smug smiles.
Gabriella arrived a second later.
She’d told Finn to stay in the pool for twenty minutes after she left so they wouldn’t arrive at the dining hall together. Seemed she’d taken that time to go and spruce herself up.
Javier’s wife had changed into a pale dress that flowed over her body like cream before flaring out at her knees. Her hair had been arranged in curls down one shoulder, caught just above her ear by a glittering diamond hair clip.
She took her seat across from Javier’s, at the opposite head of the table.
“Agree to everything Gabriella says tonight,” he murmured hurriedly in her ear before Javier passed them.
“What?” Cora whispered, frowning at him.
But Finn had already drawn back from her, taking a glass of wine that a servant had poured for him. He leaned behind Cora, lifting his chin at Lars when the man leaned back too. Lars studied him for a moment, glanced at Gabriella, and then gave Finn a subtle thumbs up behind Cora’s back.
Javier sat at the head of the table across from Gabriella, slid a napkin over his lap, and beckoned toward someone standing in the doorway.
Cora was taking a sip of wine when a man walked into the dining room. Wine sprayed from her mouth when she glanced up at the new arrival, and she coughed as she grabbed her napkin and pressed it hurriedly against her lips.
Finn didn’t do so great either; he almost dropped his fucking glass when Cora’s former bodyguard strode into the room.
“Are you all right, Elle?” Javier asked.
Without answering, Cora rose to her feet in a rush. She scooted her chair back with her hand, and hurried over to Bailey. Her high heels click-clacked loudly on the marble floor.
Everyone turned to look as she ran straight into his arms.
Bailey took a step back, arms lifting as if he wasn’t sure if he should push her away or hug her back. He threw an uneasy glance across the room toward Javier and did neither.
Finn spun to look at Javier.
The man looked like a cat in front of a bowl of fucking whipped cream.
“Reunions are always so emotional,” Javier said, lifting his glass to his lips and taking a long drink.
Cora drew back from Bailey, holding him at arm’s length. Then she turned to Javier. “But…how…?” She turned back to Bailey, and gave him another long hug.
This time, Bailey folded his arms around her back and rested his mouth on the top of her head.
Finn was on his feet in an instant. Surprisingly, Lars didn’t try and stop him when he moved past his seat en route to Cora and Bailey.
He grabbed Cora’s shoulder, pulled her away from Bailey, and stuck out his hand.
“I shot you,” Finn murmured, careful not to let anyone except Cora overhear them.
Bailey gave him a brittle smile. “I survived.”
They shook hands, and Bailey immediately moved around the table, giving Cora an almost apologetic look as he took a seat beside Javier.
This had Finn and him staring directly at each other.
Cora hurried back to her seat, scraping its legs over the floor as she sat. “Tío, how did you…?” she waved at Bailey, as if lost for words.
Finn studied her for a second. She’d shot up so quickly earlier, he hadn’t been able to catch a look at her face.
Perhaps that had been intentional. He’d never known her to be so flustered. Not like this. She tended to go quiet when the world went sideways on her. She didn’t become this fluttery, breathy girl.
She knew…came a serpentine voice inside his head. She’s keeping secrets from us.
Finn turned his stare on Bailey. The man was already watching him, face blank. But, as if he’d read Finn’s mind, he gave the slightest nod of his head.
Lars must have picked up on the same thing. He sat slumped in his chair, twir
ling the base of his wine glass along the edge of the dining room table as he studied Cora with narrowed eyes.
“I’m glad you’re so happy to see him,” Javier said. “It makes this so much easier.”
“What?” Cora asked, frowning at Javier.
“Bailey was insistent that he come work for us.” Javier held out a hand to her. “For you. I’ve appointed him as your first sicario.”
There was silence in the room following that pronouncement.
“Never,” Finn said. He slowly turned his head to Javier. “That will never—”
Cora cut him off with a hurried, “But how, tío? Bailey? How’d you find me?”
Javier glanced from Finn to Cora, and chose to answer her instead. He took a small sip of his wine before setting down his glass.
“As soon as he came out of hospital, he sent a message through one of my men,” Javier said. “You said you came out yesterday, isn’t that right, Bailey?”
Bailey gave Javier a nod, and drank down half his wine before he lifted his eyes toward Cora again. Finn shifted, thumping his elbows onto the table and gripping his hands together. This drew Bailey’s eyes.
“Hospital?” Finn asked quietly.
Bailey glanced at Javier before answering. “One of Tony’s men shot me.”
“Shot you?” Finn repeated.
Cora kicked him under the table. He knew he sounded like a fucking twat, but it was as if everything had just come crashing down. It was as if he’d just discovered that the puzzle he’d thought almost complete was a scrap of something much, much bigger.
And he didn’t have a single fucking corner piece to work with, or the lid with the goddamn picture on it.
“Shot me,” Bailey repeated, shifting in his seat.
The man didn’t look worse for wear. In fact, he looked just as robust as when he’d been up in that hayloft with Cora, about to take the virginity of a girl he’d been guarding for more than a decade.
Anger solidified into a burning ball of lead in Finn’s stomach.
“Why?” he asked, gripping his elbows and sliding them forward on the table. “Why would someone shoot you?”
Bailey opened his mouth, but Javier cut in. “Cora…may I speak with you for a moment?”
Cora spun to face Javier, eyes wide. They cleared an instant later, and she let out a quiet, “Sure,” as she pushed back her chair.
It seemed dinner around here was always a formal occasion that required the woman to dress up like peacocks. Cora had changed into a dress. Her hair was up in a high, sleek ponytail, and she’d put on lipstick and mascara. The black dress she wore glimmered faintly, and skimmed her curves just enough to remind him of exactly how delicious she looked when she was naked.
Her elegant beauty was intoxicating—and made him mad as hell for reasons he couldn’t begin to fathom.
Javier took her by the elbow, scanning her and murmuring what could have been, “Don’t you look stunning tonight?” as he led her toward the door.
As soon as they were clear, Finn reached over the table, grabbed Bailey’s hand, and slammed it into the table.
The four men seated beside Bailey sat up a little straighter. Ana and Silvia suddenly became very interested in their side of the table.
“Milo,” Lars murmured as he slid into Cora’s seat. “Let’s think this through, shall—”
“Leave us,” came Gabriella’s snapped command.
Javier’s men rose in unison, two of them tossing their napkins on the table as they made for the door. Ana and Silvia both looked toward Gabriella. She stared them down and then flicked her hand at them. “You too.”
Silvia rolled her eyes and tossed her napkin on her empty plate as she muttered something in Spanish and sashayed over to the door. Ana was a step behind her, but she kept her head down and didn’t make eye contact with Gabriella when she passed.
Gabriella rose and went to close the dining room door behind them. When she sat again, she took up her wine glass and waved at Finn. “Continue.”
He blinked at her. Released Bailey. And sat back in his chair as he took a long, steadying breath.
Finn’s hand had come to rest beside his plate, curled into a fist. “You’ve been working for Javier.”
“And for me,” Gabriella said, glancing behind her as if fearing the door hadn’t been shut properly. “Which is why you can take my word that—”
“Your word?” Finn bellowed, shooting to his feet. “I don’t know you.” He stabbed a finger at Bailey. “I don’t know him either. What I do know, is that I won’t allow him close to her.”
Bailey kept silent; perhaps there was nothing he could say to defend himself. He finished his wine, shrugged, and said, “It’s not up to you, mate.”
Finn sat down at an urgent tug on his shirt. Lars leaned closer, twisting so his back faced Bailey when he murmured in Finn’s ear.
“What the fuck, Milo?”
“Don’t trust him,” he grated.
“And Gabriella? You two were gone forever. Did you two—”
“She lied to me,” Finn muttered.
Lars patted his shoulder, turning and giving Gabriella a wide, if glassy, smile. “Well, seems we’ve all got ourselves into a bit of a fucking tangle, haven’t we. So, Bailey, could you—”
The dining room door opened again. Cora stepped inside, a shade paler than when she’d stepped out. She held her upper arm in a hand, glancing behind her and speeding up as soon as Javier came in behind her.
Lars scooted out of her chair, and she sat down with a thump, immediately grabbing her wine glass and downing it.
“What?” Finn murmured as Javier passed them.
“Nothing,” came her quiet reply. But she avoided his eyes, and lifted her glass for a refill when servants streamed into the room to serve dinner. Javier’s sicarios never did return, and a stiff silence filled the room once the serving dishes had been cleared and those seated at the table began eating.
Not surprisingly, only Javier seemed hungry.
40
Agree with everything
Javier had led Cora into the garden, far away enough that they could no longer hear voices spilling through those open doors. A trickle of unease tickled its way down her spine as he turned to her, face grim.
“You may have appointed your own lieutenants, but Bailey will be your sicario.”
“I said it was fine.”
“Mr Finn seems to have his own opinion on the matter.” Javier’s eyes narrowed, and she could see the question budding on his lips. Before he could speak, she said, “It’s not Finn’s choice to make.”
Footsteps made her turn to the dining room. The four men who’d been joining them for dinner walked out of the dining hall, closely followed by Silvia and Ana.
Javier turned to look too, and a deep frown touched his face. Instinctively, Cora grabbed his arm, twisting him to face her. The touch worked as intended—Javier turned his full attention on her, not noticing as Gabriella appeared in the doorway and drew closed the dining hall’s doors.
“I am capo.” Cora hurriedly released Javier and pushed back her shoulders. “I decide who works for me.”
You call the shots out there, bunny.
She added in as strong a voice as she could, “Me…and only me.”
Javier’s expression became blank. He tilted his head slightly to the side, studying her for what felt like an eternity. A tiny smile touched his mouth, but there was no humor in it. “You surprise me, Elle. I would have expected you to still be balking about all of this.”
“No,” she said. She blinked a few times, swallowed hard, and said, “I will become the best capo this cartel has ever had.”
Javier let out a small laugh. “What has brought this on?” he said, but as if musing to himself.
“I will make my father proud,” Cora said somberly.
His hand shot out. He grabbed her upper arm so hard that she bruised. “Just remember, Elle…I made you capo. Me. Not your father. If it was u
p to him, you would never have known about the cartel. Not until it was too late.”
He tugged her close. “I made you,” he repeated in a low whisper. Light reflected from his eyes like moonlight from a midnight lake. “I can break you.”
It was impossible to keep hiding the bruise Javier had given her without drawing attention to herself. So she pulled her hair free of its ponytail, and casually smoothed it down her left arm.
If the other guests thought she was mimicking Gabriella’s hairstyle, fine. It was better than the alternative. But when she glanced to the side to reach for her wineglass, Lars made blatant eye contact with her. And then he moved his gaze to her arm, and then back to her face.
His silent question made her cheeks flush, and she hurriedly faced forward.
Which meant she was staring straight at Bailey.
She had no idea if anyone had bought into her routine earlier. But, luckily, Lars had told her to be on her guard. To expect the unexpected. He couldn’t have known Javier would bring Bailey along to dinner, but he’d anticipated something after she’d told him about Javier’s visit to her room earlier.
Which was when he’d told her about Gabriella and the man she’d been meeting in secret. She’d wanted to tell Lars that she knew who it was—it could only have been Bailey—but then a maid had come past and informed them that dinner was ready. Since she smelled of sex and didn’t look presentable in the least, she’d sent Lars to his room so she could shower.
Well, it hadn’t all been an act. Seeing Bailey walk in behind Javier had been a shock. Everything that came after had been the act. She’d done her best to remember what the old Cora would have done. The Cora that had last seen Bailey right before he’d been shot by Finn. The Cora that had been a in a hayloft with him, so desperate for him to turn her into a woman.
That Cora had run up to Bailey and thrown her arms around him. And, for a blissful, nostalgic second, she’d been the old Cora. Her biggest concern if she would ever get to travel to Europe or Thailand, or any of the places she’d always just read about.
